


Walk Home

by thanku4urlove



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Kisses, Languages, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of Wu Jaicheng, hand holding, i would say this is a character study but it's more of a character observation, listen they're just CUTE, mentions of cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 23:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30113409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanku4urlove/pseuds/thanku4urlove
Summary: Junhui tilts. He’s so far to the side he should fall, his smile wide, giggling, looking off to the left where the loudness is, where Seungkwan and Seokmin are performing their daily chore of willingly making fools of themselves. His grip is tight on Hansol’s shoulders.Hansol is looking in the mirror, his arms crossed, watching his boyfriend laugh.Wen Junhui, with Hansol.
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Walk Home

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. I wrote this at 3am because I was just Thinking About Jun, but it ended up way cuter than I expected it to be, so here it is!!

Junhui tilts. He’s so far to the side he should fall, his smile wide, giggling, looking off to the left where the loudness is, where Seungkwan and Seokmin are performing their daily chore of willingly making fools of themselves. His grip is tight on Hansol’s shoulders. 

Hansol is looking in the mirror, his arms crossed, watching his boyfriend laugh. 

He realizes too late that he probably should have tuned in; not until the joke is over does he notice that he missed it. It doesn’t bother him too much, though. Cameras are in the practice room today, and as long as this moment isn’t cut—and it probably won’t be, Seungkwan and Seokmin are too funny to be considered a waste of time—he’ll just watch it when the _Inside Seventeen_ episode pops up on their YouTube channel. Eyes still on Junhui’s face, Hansol reaches up, covering the tops of Junhui’s hands with his palms. 

The touch steals Junhui’s attention almost immediately, and he shuffles in close behind Hansol, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He places his chin on top of their small stack of hands, resting his temple against Hansol’s head. Hansol smiles at him, running the back of one finger under Junhui’s chin and up his jawbone. Junhui closes his eyes and honest-to-god purrs in Hansol’s ear, and Hansol laughs. 

When practice is over and Hansol has miraculously escaped cleaning responsibilities, his eyes search for Junhui again. Junhui is milling around the room in a seemingly listless pattern, a black ball cap pulled low over his head, his eyes on his feet, his lips shaping the words to some song he’s singing under his breath. He looks distracted or lost in thought, but Hansol knows better, knows that Junhui is just waiting for him. The practice room is a bit chilly, but not near cold enough for the way Junhui has shimmied both of his arms inside of his sweater, retracted through the sleeves and tucked around his body in a hug. Hansol walks up to him, sliding his hands inside Junhui’s sweater too. 

Junhui lets him, squirming but not squirming away, finding Hansol’s hands and holding them. It’s a bit ridiculous, the way he’s holding hands with Junhui under his clothes, the way Junhui leans in to hit the brim of his ballcap against the top of Hansol’s head to knock it askew, to tilt it up so he can nuzzle in without it getting in the way. Hansol can’t help a laugh as Junhui’s nose nudges his, his eyes falling closed, and Junhui responds with an amused exhale that Hansol feels in Junhui’s chest as their lips meet. 

“Go home!” The words are Mandarin and the tone is annoyed, and Hansol knows just enough of the language to know what’s being said, though the language choice means the words weren’t for him. Which is a bit weird, because Hansol was the one that initiated the contact, but he can only count the number of times Minghao has been annoyed with him on one hand, and he knows Junhui doesn’t have the same luxury. “Stop taunting us with your freedom! Get out of here.”

He’s holding a broom, Joshua laughing behind him and not looking at all like he would come to their defense, so they make a quick exit. 

The night air is cool and calm and Hansol immediately wants to walk home, something Junhui agrees to without being asked. Junhui has popped his arms back through his sleeves so Hansol winds himself around one best he can, looping his own arm under Junhui’s and tangling their fingers together. It pulls them close enough to bump shoulders as they walk and they do, because Junhui sways a little when he walks and talks at the same time, chatting about something one of his friends posted on _Weibo._ Hansol has to filter through the things he knows about the people attached to the Chinese names that Junhui throws out for a good two minutes before he remembers who Junhui is talking about, and he does remember, though knows that if he didn’t Junhui would have just told him. 

“Oh, the leader of _X-NINE._ The tan guy?” 

“Yeah, Jaicheng- _gē._ I was showing him pictures of Leo, since he loves cats too. He has four, and they’re really cute.” 

Hansol watches Junhui’s face as Junhui recounts their conversation, his speech slightly stilted with awkward pauses as he translates for Hansol’s benefit, the persistent smile in his tone almost making him sound giddy. His free hand moves around as he talks, buzzing and busy around his head, the one held between them still and relaxed. It’s a bit cheesy, but Hansol likes that Junhui calls him _“Nonie”_ when talking about him to his friends, despite being the only one that really still calls him _“Hansol”_ on camera. 

It reminds Hansol of a story about Leo that Sofia had shared with him yesterday so he tells it, Junhui equally interested in the wellbeing of both his sister and the new kitten. Hansol makes a mental note to tell Sofia about his reactions; the first time Junhui had called her _mèimei,_ she’d flustered up pink and giggled. He doesn’t actually think that his little sister has a crush on his boyfriend, but it’s still fun to tease her about it. Plus, everyone in the world has a little bit of a crush on Junhui, anyway. 

They’ve fallen quiet by the time they reach their dorm, and despite knowing that they’re going to walk inside together, shower together, and curl up in Junhui’s bed together, something about the stop they come to has an end-of-date feeling to it that gives Hansol pause. Or maybe it doesn’t and Hansol is just weird, but Junhui is familiar enough with his strange whimsy to recognize the expression on his face. Hansol is familiar with Junhui too, seeing the quirk to his lips but not able to move quickly enough to dodge the kiss Junhui plants on his cheek. 

He laughs loud as he swerves away, his cheek wet, Junhui giggling at him and squeezing on his hand. Hansol tries to kiss him back but Junhui is already prepared for it, and always too quick for him, dodging away and letting him go to slip inside first. Hansol chases behind him, and they’re safely behind closed doors before he finally manages to touch his lips to Junhui’s skin, though Jun turns his head at the last second, angling Hansol’s kiss from his cheek to his mouth and kissing Hansol back. 

Junhui’s kisses are either feather-light and quick or slow and deep, and Hansol is being settled into as Junhui pushes his back against the bedroom door, fingertips digging in as they run down Hansol’s chest, resting on his waist. Junhui always nudges at him when they kiss, and this time is no exception, nuzzling his cheek when he leans back to breathe, bumping Hansol’s jaw with his nose to tilt his head up and kiss at his neck. 

“We need to shower,” Hansol reminds him, Jun humming lightly in acknowledgement as he continues to kiss lower, his fingers curling in the waistband of Hansol’s sweatpants. 

When they’re finally curled up in bed, Hansol has his head on Junhui’s chest, one leg hooked around one of Junhui’s, Junhui running his fingers through Hansol’s hair with one hand, holding his phone up to his face with the other. Hansol has long since stopped trying to get Junhui to put his phone down before bed, but it’s Junhui’s only link to his home, so while Hansol thinks using it less would help him sleep better, he can’t really fault Junhui for it. 

“‘Night,” Hansol murmurs into his chest, the word in English and coming out deeper than he intends it to be. Junhui kisses his head. 

“Goodnight, my dear.” The phrase is Cantonese, Hansol hearing it for months before asking Minghao what Junhui was saying, the journey of discovering the meaning a long one between Hansol’s botched relaying of the message and Minghao having to outsource and contact some friends for a translation. The words are like magic in Hansol’s chest, so used to hearing them before bed that drowsiness washes over him at the sound of the foreign syllables. 

“I love you,” Hansol tries, the Cantonese _“ngo ngoi nei”_ clumsy on his tongue. Junhui laughs loud, but the sound is delighted instead of mocking, wrapping an arm around him to squeeze him tightly. Hansol smiles back, still on the edge of sleep despite the jostling, tilting his chin up obligingly as Junhui places a finger under it to kiss his mouth. 

“I love you too,” Junhui says, in Korean for him, his hand going back to Hansol’s hair as Hansol gets himself comfortable again. He says it a couple of times, quiet and random, catching Hansol’s ear the moment he’s about to drift off. He gets tugged back to consciousness by the soft word once, twice, then Junhui’s fingers go still in his hair, and he finally slips off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also [here](https://twitter.com/thanku4urIove) on twitter!


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